


Cold Hearts Looking for Love

by swang_is_trying



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ???? maybe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Keith, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), I will add tags as I go, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith has a crush, M/M, Orphan Keith (Voltron), future smut, keith does graffiti, lance likes to work with kids, rich!lance, they're both assholes at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-06-15 10:11:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15410649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swang_is_trying/pseuds/swang_is_trying
Summary: Keith pounces on Lance, and before he can even blink, he’s caught between the brick wall and Keith’s fierce glare.“You think you’re hot shit or something?” Keith spits.Lance’s surprise turns smoothly into a smirk. He knew exactly how to get under his skin.“Why yes. Yes I do.”





	1. Come and Get Me

**Author's Note:**

> Ya'll.... I'm really trying. I'm not a writer, I primarily make art--but this AU has been nagging me for the past half a year and I've spent so much time daydreaming about it and fleshing out the plot. There is just so much room for exploration and I'm such a sucker for character development. I HAVE to get it out now. I wrote long crazy fics when I was like 12 with my own OC's and everything but those have never seen the light of day. Hopefully this will channel my 12 year old storytelling desires again :)
> 
> It's ambitious. It's a ride of emotions. I don't know if I'll even finish. But I'll try my best. <3
> 
> Thanks, and enjoy! :^)
> 
> [My insta and tumblr: @swangsart]

Keith has been camping out in this tunnel for two days.

Not against his own will or anything. It’s something he usually does. If he’s not loitering around the streets or at Shiro’s, he’s probably at Crogg’s Tunnel. Sometimes the occasional homeless man wanders in and out, but Keith is ok with them. They’re chill. Keep to themselves. Kind of like Keith. It’s a sort of comradery.

It’s the only place where he truly feels like he can relax. And it’s a good place for him to think and chill a little bit. Most of all, it’s the place he goes when he wants to scribble a bit of something on the walls.

Keith shakes his spray can bottle as he carefully fills in the black lines with bright red. The nozzle fizzes, and slowly the paint peters out as the bottle goes empty. Keith grunts, throwing the bottle out and reaching into his bag for another can, only to realize it’s the last one. 

“Ah shit,” he says eloquently into the dim, wet tunnel. His voice echoes back.

Keith sighs, deciding to call it a day. He picks up his notebook from the grimy floor and drops it into his bag. Then he looks up to scrutinize his work, pulling his bandana down from his mouth. 

This time, Keith had stenciled a large lion, fangs out and roaring. Around the lion he drew in big, taunting letters: “come and get me”. Keith didn’t exactly know what this piece meant, as he did with most of his pieces. He just knew it looked cool and he liked it.

Back when he was still in the system he sourced his spray paint from stealing them at local stores, but with the size of the cans he was only able to take one at a time. Because of that, he stuck to stenciling, but now that he kind of has a job he’s able to get more colors at once by actually paying for some. But those babies aren’t cheap.

Keith winces as he looks at the swirling red and gold and black, remembering that he needs to get more red paint.

As he makes his way to his bike he considers whether or not he should steal or actually pay for the next batch.

 _Nah,_ Keith thinks, _I’ll just work some extra hours at Shiro’s. I’m done with that juvenile shit. Mostly._

And with that, he straps on his helmet and the engine kicks. A billow of dirt follows him as he curbs around and speeds to Shiro’s. 

 _Speaking of Shiro, he’s probably at the shop right now._ Keith thinks. Keith wouldn’t say Shiro’s the only heroic shining figure in the tragic anime backstory of his life, but he’s somewhere close to that. When Keith was 16 and living in the service home with Rolo and his gang, they would often take cars for joyrides and light stuff on fire. Rolo has a weird thing for that, and it is exciting enough for Keith to tag along. One particular joyride resulted in the cops on their tail, and like a hive of bees, they hopped off the car and scattered in all different directions. Keith was running and smirking as the sirens blared and his mates screamed “go go go go!” To Keith, it didn’t really matter if he got caught or not—there was no one to disappoint. It was the chase that gave him the biggest thrill.

And so there he was, panting and wiping sweat off his brow as he hid behind a building, when a voice boomed, “What are you doing behind my shop?”

Keith whirled around to an open back door and the hottest man he’s ever seen. A chiseled jaw. Biceps that where double his size. He had a prosthetic arm and a gnarly scar across his nose. And soft eyes.

Keith knew he never had a chance with the dude, since he was like, almost 30, but it didn’t stop Keith from visiting Shiro’s shop every so often. Shiro saw something inside Keith that reminded him of his time in the military and during recovery—something angry and full of spite, and so after Keith aged out of the system he offered a small room in the shop for Keith to stay in and a job. 

To say Keith is thankful would be an understatement.

Shiro is working under a car when Keith hops off his bike and shakes off his helmet. He flashes Keith a smile. “Hey bud, finally decided to come back?”

“Nah, I would’ve stayed a bit longer if my paint didn’t run out.” Keith hops on the nearby tool cabinet, grabbing Shiro’s can of beer and taking a swig. “Need some help?” He asks, wiping his mouth.

Shiro scratches his head with the wrench. “I think I’m good, I just have a bit left to finish up.”

“Okay good, ‘cause I’m off to see Katie anyways.” Keith says as he hops off. He heads over to a nearby toolbox and digs out two snickers bars. He pops one in his bag and unwraps the other. 

Shiro chuckles. “And I was hopeful that you wouldn’t go off again. Will you at least be here for your next shift?” 

“Yup,” Keith says, his mouth full of chocolate. He makes his way to his bike with a wave, not looking back. “Tomorrow at noon, see ya then!”

With that, Keith puts his helmet back on and revs the engine, off again.

Keith is thankful, heck, he’d hack off his left arm for Shiro.

But that is also why he can never get himself to stay for long. Why he can never utter those words. Then it’ll be too real.

He’s a child of the streets. Feral. Wild. A child with no anchor. With no one to love, no one to love back. He is worth nobody’s time, especially Shiro’s. And that’s the way it should stay.

At least that’s what Keith tells himself.

 

***

 

The Anne Duncan house is this dilapidated two story vintage house that sits uncharacteristically between two apartment complexes. A sign on the front lawn reads “The Anne Duncan House: Home For Children”. The sign, just like the house itself, has been there seemingly from the beginning of time. Keith still remembers the first night he got relocated here, Romelle had told him the story that she tells every child when they first arrive at the house:

“Anne Duncan was such a kind and sweet lady. Even after all she went through, she still believed in the good in people. So when she was old enough to be considered a legal adult she worked as hard as she could to provide a space for other kids like her, a space where they can take care of each other and find family with each other. Remember you too, Keith, are worthy of being loved. Hopefully you can find more of that here.”

Those words kind of grossed out 14 year old Keith at the time. They were too sweet, too kind, and too... genuine. The world Keith grew up in didn’t have room for genuine people like Romelle and her little ragtag of children she calls her family. Didn’t have room for the patched up couches draped with homey old quilts. For children like him to find hope again.

Quite frankly, it scared Keith. It scared Keith because he found himself wanting to stay. 

Even now, Keith finds an odd sense of nostalgia and wistfulness that washes over him as he traverses the green lawn towards the back of the house. He left the Anne Duncan house quickly after in fear that he would grow attached, but now, almost a decade later, he realizes that the attachment is inevitable.

As Keith approaches the fence he shrugs off his backpack and throws it over. His movements are practically muscle memory by now. He climbs up the garbage dump and throws his leg over. And then the other leg. And then he jumps down, grabs his backpack, and heads to the backdoor.

It’s something he’s been doing for almost six years.

He spots Katie in her usual corner, with all of the books. She’s hunched over, completely immersed, her small skinny limbs in a pile. The Anne Duncan house was relatively quiet today, the children lounging around or in their own rooms.

Keith smiles a little as he walks over to Katie and sits next to her. She’s so engrossed in her book that she doesn’t jump until the snickers bar is stuck in her face.

When she sees Keith, her face breaks into a grin. She snatches the snickers bar. “Keith! You’re here!”

“Yup, I’m here,” Keith echoes, chuckling.

“Gosh, it’s been like two weeks! I’ve already gotten through all of Lord of the Rings and now I’m almost done with The Hitchhikers guide to the Galaxy—” Half into unwrapping her snickers bar, she stops, and then looks at Keith skeptically. “You didn’t steal these bars this time, did you?”

Keith shrugs, smirking but silent.

“You DID steal these! I thought you were OVER that!”

Keith laughs. “I bought them, I bought them Katie! Give me some credit here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t.” He sighs. “So, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. How’s it going so far?”

“Oh, it’s pretty good. I think you would like it. It’s about aliens and it’s kinda goofy. It’s about this guy who’s the last person on Earth….”

Keith smiles as Katie continues to ramble, mouthful of chocolate. There really isn’t any other kid in Anne Duncan’s who nerds out as much as Katie does, so she always rambles to Keith, who actually secretly enjoys whatever sci-fi geek stuff Katie is always reading and is too impatient himself to actually sit down and read. Two weeks _is_ a long time. She’ll be rambling for a while.

Katie was seven when she got checked into the Anne Duncan house. Keith was fourteen. Her androgynous looks and heavy round glasses automatically estranged her from the rest of the little kids in Anne Duncan. They all liked to play with dolls, or toy cars, but Katie always wanted to read. 

Keith, having similarly been isolated due to his icy personality, found kinship with her. He wasn’t much of a talker, so at first he would just keep Katie company and silently scribble in his notebook as Katie read. In the later months, as their friendship grew, Keith would come back at night (since he was rarely at the foster home) and sneak over snacks and other stuff he’d stolen during the day. He would find her buried under the blankets, flashlight and book in hand.

Keith doesn’t know why he decided to take care of Katie. Became so invested in her life. Or assign himself as responsible for her wellbeing (at least in his head). Keith was always pretty adamant on being alone and staying alone. But some part of his heart, that he refuses to admit, knows that he craves company. At least _someone_ to care for. Maybe that’s just something about being human. Maybe it’s how Katie lives her life between story books, instead of the reality Keith goes through on the streets. Something in Keith wanted to protect her from this reality. His reality.

Before Keith goes any further down memory lane, the doorbell rings. It’s a sharp buzz that changes the atmosphere of the house from lazy to alert, as children turn their heads to the door. Katie stops mid sentence and looks over.

A volunteer rushes over to the door and peers through the peephole before opening. A bunch of men in suits walk in, nodding at the volunteer. They exchange a few words, and the volunteer goes to retrieve Romelle, most likely.

“Them again.” Katie snarks. The sudden alertness of the room melts into a comfortable buzz as the kids go back to their original activities.

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

“Some big company dude that’s been coming over like, every other day. They kind of come in, chat with Romelle, sit around and stare at us for a while, and talk to themselves and whatnot, before leaving.”

“What are they doing here?”

“Sam says he heard them talking with Romelle about sponsorship or something like that. Probably gonna give us money or something.” She shrugs, turning her attention back to her book. Keith doubts she forgot that she was in mid conversation with him—he knows that strangers make her a bit more closed off. Reading is also her form of avoidance.

As Katie re-immerses herself into her book, Keith takes the time to observe the men in suits that just walked in. They’re busying themselves by talking amongst each other. There’s a total of three men. One of them is a bit taller and larger than the other two. His graying hair is cut short, a very boring typical businessman look. But something in his stance and the way the other two are looking at him seems to suggest that he’s the one in charge. The second man is shorter, a bit stockier, with the same boring hairstyle. The third man...

The third man is actually kinda hot? At least from what Keith can see, which is literally just the back of him. His smaller frame and haircut suggests that he’s younger than the two. His suit is slightly one shade lighter than the other two men, hugging his slim waist and broad shoulders in a really sexy way.

 _Is he a model?_ Keith asks to himself. _His legs are so long, holy shit._ Keith could’ve sworn he saw the same body on some kind of sports catalogue.

As Keith ogles, Romelle rushes over to greet them. Romelle has gotten considerably more plump over the years, her long hair wrapped messily into a bun. But the same warmth can be seen on her face, albeit with a little more wrinkles, as she gives each of them a warm smile and handsh—

Oh _my_ god.

Model-Man turns around and flashes Romelle the most gorgeous smile as he shakes her hand firmly. Keith feels a sharp flash of hot and then cold in his chest that spreads across his body. His fingertips are tingling.

His skin a delicious, golden caramel. A jawline that could kill. White, white teeth and-- _What the fuck, how can someone have eyes_ that _blue?_

Ok, that boy is hot. Keith can admit that. And Keith is terribly sexually frustrated. He can admit that too. But this boy is also the epitome of everything Keith hates, from his shiny shoes to his perfect hair—no doubt living in a high rise on the east coast of downtown, eating whatever the fuck raw fish in tiny ass dishes that cost way more than his rent, probably pulling girls left and right with that fake grin of his. Probably owns 6 of those Ferarri’s that he and Rolo broke into that one year, and has someone to dress him in the morning and clean after his shit, and—

Model-Man’s piercing blue eyes meet Keith’s, and before Keith can even react, the man winks.

…And then he swiftly turns his attention back to Romelle.

What the _fuck?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw this tumblr post that was like "you can pry italics off of my COLD DEAD HANDS" and I didn't get it then... but now I can't relate any harder to that
> 
> [My insta and tumblr: @swangsart]


	2. Don't Fucking Touch Me

“Keith, stop drooling.” Katie deadpans next to him.

Keith tears his gaze away to glare at Katie. “I’m _not_ drooling.”

“Uh-huh. And your face isn’t embarrassingly red either, right.”

Keith self-consciously slaps his hand on his cheek. Katie bursts out laughing.

“Katie!” Keith growls.

“Ok, ok, ok, I’m sorry.” She wipes her eyes a little. “But seriously, how long has it been since you’ve actually _been_ with someone?" 

Keith pauses for a moment. “Well, I mean, Todd—”

“Todd was a jerk. And you know that. All of Rolo’s hooligans are jerks.”

“There was Shir—”

“ _That_ doesn’t count. You giving him puppy dog eyes and then him politely turning you down isn’t _being_ with someone, Keith.” 

“What do you know about gay romance, Katie. You’re like twelve.” Keith grumbles, as his eyes slowly gravitate back to Model-Man.

 _Honestly though, he’s walking and talking like he_ _knows he’s hot. The way he carries himself. The way he sweeps his hand in his hair…_

“Fourteen.” She corrects, breaking his train of thought. “I’m serious though. You’re twenty-one. And you haven’t been in a relationship.”

“I don’t do relationships, Katie.” Keith mumbles. “You of all people should know that.”

“I know, I know you’re Keith Kogane, the emo who has an icy heart and doesn’t like being close to people, blah blah,” Keith opens his mouth to object but Katie goes on, “but I mean some day you’re gonna _break_ , y’know? You’ll be years and years deprived of relationship stuff and one day you’ll be like wow I _really_ need a boyfriend or someone to bang and then you’ll _settle_. I mean, if Todd wasn’t already an example of that.”

Keith scowls. “Says who." 

“Says me. Also Malcom Gladwell.” She raises a finger. “Like the concept of tipping point. When an epidemic breaks loose from a small container or population and begins to spread. Your loneliness is the epidemic. You breaking is the tipping point.”

Keith scowls some more. Sometimes he wonders why he even bothers to try arguing with Katie. 

“Katie! Katie darling, come here.” Keith and Katie both look over to see Romelle gesturing for Katie to come over. All three men are looking their way, and Keith feels awfully exposed. Especially with Model-Man’s piercing blue gaze. _Especially_ because Keith shouldn’t be here.

He notices that Katie hasn’t budged. He nudges her gently. “Hey, Romelle’s asking for you. Don’t want to upset her.”

Katie takes a deep breath. She pushes her glasses up her nose, closes her book, and then slowly makes her way over, her skinny shoulders hiked up to her chin.

Keith watches as Katie warily eyes the three men. Romelle puts an arm around Katie’s shoulder as she introduces her to the three men. The biggest man smiles and asks her some questions. Katie replies, but Keith can’t hear her from here.

Keith tries to pass the time by scribbling in his notebook and leafing through Katie’s book. A long time passes before Katie comes back and situates herself back into her corner. 

“Well?” Keith asks.

Katie frowned. “They asked me some questions and then made me take a weird quiz. And then asked me what book I was reading.”

“Huh.”

“And then they said that they wanted to support me in my education or something. Like relocate me or something? I don’t know what they mean by that though. They seemed nice, I guess.” 

“ _Relocate?_ ” Keith begins to panic.

Katie looks at Keith funnily. “Yeah. Keith, you’ve been relocated like seven times when you were in the system. Why are you freaking out?”

Because relocating means an unknown future for Katie. Relocating means he maybe will see her less. Means that Keith’s reality might become her reality. Where boys fight with bloodied fists. Where no one cares, and no one matters. Where Romelle’s warmth and Keith’s protection cannot reach her. 

“I’m not—I’m not freaking out.” Keith takes a deep breath. He eyes the three men, sitting and talking amongst each other. Something like a mix of anxiety and anger stirs inside him.

Ok, but first… who do they think they are? Just because they have money, they can uproot Katie and do whatever they please? Did they even _ask_ Katie if she wants to relocate? Did they even ask Katie if she’s ok with them meddling in her life like that? What is she to them, some sad charity case that would be thankful for anything rich bastards give them? Is she another headline on the newspaper, just for that extra bit of pride? Just another _thing_ to play around with?

Keith clenches his fists.

Model-Man stands up, puts his hand to the tallest man’s shoulder and says something. Then he makes his way to the back, re-buttoning his suit.

Keith hastily gets up to go follow him. Something about his good looks now adds to the anger in his stomach.

“Keith, what are you _doing_?” Katie asks behind him, bewildered.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbles. His eyes burn onto the blue of his suit as he follows him out to the backyard.

 

***

 

Lance sighs as he steps outside the building. He rolls his shoulders and neck before reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He lights it and takes a long drag before breathing out and leaning on the concrete wall.

Now that he isn’t under his father’s watchful glare, Lance allows his body to slouch as he examines the smoke coming from his cigarette. The crisp outdoor air helps to clear his head a little. 

Honestly, Lance is tired as hell. He woke up at 6 in the morning for a golf session with some people in his father’s company, and they talked about business for a good hour afterwards. Then his father insisted on today being the day to do some visits to other branches of the company, on the outskirts of the city. Getting to know the whole of the company, and all that. And now it’s this, visiting Anne Duncan again. For the third time this week. 

Lance minds coming to Anne Duncan the least out of all the activities he’s done today. Seeing the children helps cheer him up a little. But never really does he have time to go hang out with them… he’s always talking business with his dad, who honestly has zero acknowledgement for the little kids in the building.

God, when was the last time he talked to someone his age? Was it last weekend? He had gone to someone’s house party—was it Nyma’s? He barely remembers what it was like. Everyone was so shit faced. He only remembers faintly making out with some girl. 

Next time he’ll try to be soberer when he’s hanging with kids his age. Actually have conversations with them and remember who they are. Even though they usually talk about nothing but how many cars they got or who broke up with who. It’s better than nothing. It’s better than being alone.

All of a sudden, a hand rips out Lance’s cigarette from his fingers and he is pushed back onto the concrete wall—hard.

It’s the boy Lance noticed when he first walked in. But this time his deep violet eyes are inches away from his own and his dark brows are pulled into a scowl. He’s so much more gorgeous up close, even if he’s pissed as hell. A Band-Aid decorates the left side of his cheek, covering his porcelain skin. Angry red marks peek from underneath. Lance kind of wants to touch it.

Lance mentally shakes himself, pulling himself together and giving the guy a lazy smile. “Hey cutie, a pick-up line would’ve worked but this is fine too.”

The guy chooses to ignore Lance. “You think you’re hot shit or something?” He spits. 

Lance’s surprise turns smoothly into a smirk. Well, shit—this guy was riled up. Lance knew exactly how to get under his skin.

“Why yes. Yes, I do.” He replies cooly.

The guy snarls at him. He bunches Lance’s collar in his fist and pulls close enough that Lance can feel his breath hot as he punches out his next words. His grip is strong.

“Listen, stay the FUCK away from Katie. She doesn’t want your help, or your pity, so take your rich ass somewhere else in this city and find someone else to call your charity case project.” He then shoves Lance harder into the brick wall with an _oomph_.

Lance definitely did not expect to be accosted today, especially from hot k-pop boy. But it was not unwelcome. In fact, Lance found it fun. Smiling, he slowly straightens himself out and dusts the dirt that accumulated on his suit from the shove. He then, nonchalantly, places a hand on the guy’s shoulder. The guy freezes.

“Buddy, I’m sorry, but that’s out of my control. I don’t own the McClain business, my dad does. You and your Katie friend are going to be seeing more of my rich ass, no exceptions.” He leans in closer. “Get used to it.”

With a force greater than Lance expected, he wrenches off Lances hand. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He growls, shooting Lance a look of disgust before stalking off.

Lance watches his slim figure leave, shoulders hunched, strides terse. He grins as he adjusts his collar and checks him out from the back. A little shorter than Lance. His arms seem strong. His tight ripped jeans and chunky boots definitely added to his hotness, _especially_ with that ass.

 _Hate to see you go, but love to see you leave_. He thinks with a smirk.

The unanticipated exchange became the highlight of Lance’s day. Riling up hot k-pop boy was even more fun than that shit faced party he went to. His anger was so real. It was kind of hot. 

As Lance makes his way back into the house, he makes a mental promise to make sure that wasn’t the last of his exchanges with hot k-pop guy.

He looks over to the corner where he was previously sitting with the young Katie girl, planning on giving him another cheeky wink, just to add fuel to the flame—but he was gone. Along with all of his stuff. It was just Katie, sitting quietly and completely absorbed in her book. Like he was never there.

Lance tries to ignore the disappointment he feels.

“Lance,” his father calls to him. He whips his head around to see his father near the door, gesturing for him to come with. 

They all give Romelle firm handshakes once again before nodding goodbye and leaving. As they get into the car, Lance tries looking for hot k-pop boy. Maybe he went out through the side? But then he would probably be seen right now walking on the sidewalk or something. Maybe he went to the bathroom? With all his stuff? Lance is thoroughly perplexed.

As the chauffeur pulls away from the Anne Duncan house his father begins talking. As usual, he’s always running through plans and other tasks, leaving no time to waste. Lance is already tired as heck, and his patience is starting to run thin. 

“I have a dinner tonight with the director of finances at Galra Tech, remember Mr. Zendak? Anyways, you will be joining us. Mr. Zendak has a lot of experience in business, especially in stocks and trades, which is very essential, and you haven’t had enough exposure to that yet. It’s at seven, so you’ll have to get ready by—”

“I’m not going.” Lance snaps. “I have stuff to do.”

His father stills, before turning around in the shotgun seat to look at Lance. His blue eyes, hard set jaw, and wrinkles forming around his face show years of being in command. More recently though, his hair has been graying faster. “What ‘stuff’ do you have to do, Lance.” He says sternly.

Lance begins to fidget. “Uh, well, Allura has to make up some time at work today so she texted me and told me Leo has Tae-kwon do tonight and no one can take him so… Also, I have schoolwork I haven’t finished.”

“You will be dropping off your nephew to Tae-kwon do tonight instead of having dinner with Mr. Zendak, a director at Galra Tech, a company with over 80% stock hold of the whole industry.”

“Uh-huh. Also, I have schoolwork.”

“Lance. You’re not taking this seriously. I’m not going to be CEO of Alpha Air forever, and you know that. This is valuable experience I’m giving you to make your transition easier. I’m trying to help you.”

“Dad, I’m _tired_. We’ve been up and at it since 6am! What happens if I make a fool of myself over dinner? I don’t know—what if I end up falling asleep and face planting into my food!” 

Lance’s Dad scowls. “You’re not going to do that.” 

“I know, I know. The point is, I’m _tired_.”

“Your son has a point Henry.” Mr. Jackson chuckles beside Lance. “I’m planning on heading home after this and having some wine before bed. He really did play well in golf today—beat me by a whole 12 points.”

Bless Mr. Jackson’s heart.

Lance’s father pauses for a couple of seconds, and then he sighs. “Do you really have to be the one to take Leo to Tae-kwon do?”

Lance bristles. His exhaustion isn’t helping. “Yes, is that a problem? Do you really hate me visiting home _that_ much? You’re the one that divorced mom, not me, so leave me out of your drama!” Lance realizes his voice has gone shrill, and snaps his jaw shut.

The car is silent for a bit. Mr. Jackson awkwardly fiddles with his wristwatch.

His father sounds very tired when he says: “You’ll send Leo to Tae-kwon do, but make sure to bring your schoolwork. I don’t want you wasting time watching little kids punch around for an hour.”

His last statement rubs Lance the wrong way, but he restrains himself. “Got it.”

 

***

 

Allura hadn’t texted Lance that day, contrary to what he told his father. He sends a quick text to her saying that he’ll be picking Leo up from his afterschool program and sending him to Tae-kwon do.

Leo immediately perks up when he sees Lance, completely forgetting the worksheet he was working on. “Tío Lance!” He flashes a toothless grin, curly hair a mess, freckles splattered all over his cheeks.

“Ah, Leo! There’s my favorite nephew!” Leo runs over and leaps into Lance’s arms. Lance squeezes him tight. 

“I’m your only nephew,” Leo says, giggling.

“Yep, my only nephew, and my favorite nephew.” Lance boops him on the nose. “Alright get your stuff packed up and we’ll sign out and leave to Tae-Kwon do, ok?”

“Ok!!!” Leo speeds over to the table, swiping everything into his backpack, loose papers and all. Lance chuckles.

 

\--

 

“So why are you taking me to class instead of Mom?” Leo asks curiously, as they walk hand in hand to Lance’s car.

“Mama’s been so busy recently, I thought I could help her out a little. Plus, you know I need at least _one_ dosage of vitamin Leo a week!”

Leo giggles again as they hop into the car. Lance fixes his seatbelt before he gets in the front.

“Yeah, and it’s been _two_ weeks! Tío Lance, so much has happened! I lost another tooth, see?” Leo pulls his mouth to the side with his finger.

Lance pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road, smiling. “Yeah I saw that. When did it happen?”

“Two days ago! I put it under my pillow, and the next day I got a dollar! And that Lego piece that I lost! The tooth fairy found it!”

Lance chuckles. “What if the tooth fairy was the one who stole it in the first place?”

Leo’s mouth gapes open, as he stares at Lance through the rearview mirror in shock. “Is it because she thought the Lego was a tooth?”

“Or maybe because she actually likes building her homes out of Legos, and only uses teeth as decoration.” Lance snickers. 

“Eeeew! That would be scary!” Leo pulls a face. “If I was the tooth fairy I’d put cool rocks in my house. I found two cool ones yesterday! They were kind of greenish. And see through!”

As Leo rambles about the cool rocks he found, and more potential interior designs for the Tooth Fairy’s house, Lance feels himself relaxing a bit more, pitching in with his own ideas. Seeing Leo was a good idea. It never fails to make Lance feel better. Leo is full of imaginary wonders and pure intentions. Lance has had enough uptight business interactions for the day. Seen enough greed and arrogance. Enough masked faces and fake smiles.

Honestly, he’s had enough since years ago.

But for him, there really isn’t any other option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it :) Chapter 3 coming super soon! 
> 
> [My insta and tumblr: @swangsart]


	3. Speak of the Devil

A couple days later Keith finds himself back at the Anne Duncan House. He plops himself next to Katie and offers her a snickers bar as he finishes up the last bits of his own. 

Without looking up from her book, Katie reaches for the bar and begins to unwrap it. “Look who’s back so soon.” She says.

“Yeah, Rolo and the gang are heading downtown to vandalize some dude’s place because he ratted him out to the police. Or something. Anyways it’s not my concern so I’m not going.” 

“Uh-huh.”

Katie and Keith sit there in a moment of silence. Keith slowly chews on the last of his snickers bar, staring out into space. His fingers tap anxiously on his knee. Katie flips a page.

“You’re here for Lance, aren’t you.” Katie then deadpans.

Keith stutters. “Um, who?” What Keith really wanted to ask was 1) how Katie knew so quick, and 2) how she knew his name, but first he had to play it cool, of course.

“Don’t play dumb Keith. Lance, the tall tan dude you were practically drooling over last time you came here? I talked to them, remember. They introduced themselves.”

“I’m not—I’m not here for the business guys or whatever! I told you, I wasn’t up for Rolo’s antics today so I’m here!” Keith snaps.

“Uh-huh. You should tell yourself that. You even came at the same time they did last time. It’s 5:30pm.”

“That’s _coincidence_!” He yells.

“Right. And is staring at the door a coincidence too?”

Even though Katie seemed to understand Keith’s intentions more than Keith himself did, he found himself getting angry at her. The familiar fire bursts in his chest.

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Katie! Drop it! I don’t give a damn’ about those nasty rich assholes. Why the hell do I even bother coming to this stupid place for you?!” Keith’s voice rose before he could stop himself. The room falls quiet as the children stop to stare. He realizes he’s standing, and awkwardly sits back down. 

Slowly, the children go back to their activities. Katie is looking at Keith curiously. She bookmarks her page and puts her book to the side.

“You wanna know about what happens next in the story? It’s kinda wacky.”

“Um, okay… sure." 

Keith knows well that this was Katie’s form of apology. Katie’s blunt personality derived from her intelligence sometimes doesn’t mesh well with Keith’s temper and denial. It’s just what happens when two socially isolated people strike up a friendship. But the two have learned to deal with it, in their own odd, nonverbal way. As Katie dives into the tale of the lone man travelling through space, meeting all sorts of odd aliens, Keith wonders why he got so riled up at Katie’s remarks. Deep down, he knows it’s because she’s telling the truth, and that’s something he hardly wants to admit. Keith had justified himself to go to Anne Duncan on the basis that, _if_ the businessmen are making the moves to relocate Katie, then he would be there to stop them. Keith hasn’t figured out _how_ to stop them, because that was too far down the hypothetical excuse. He just knows that he will.

“Ah, Keith!” Romelle’s voice interrupts Katie’s long rambling of aliens and space-ware. Keith and Katie look up to see Romelle making her way to them. She has that same warm smile on her face and twinkling eyes. It’s a look that makes Keith a little wistful for a mother.

“Hi, Romelle.” Keith says, kind of wishing she didn’t see him at all.

Romelle pulls up a stool to sit next to Katie and Keith. “You know, Keith, you can just come through the front door like a regular visitor.”

Keith shrugs, looking down at the floor. He pictured himself walking through the front door, signing in, getting a tag by a volunteer... It was off putting. He didn’t like it. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Keith just doesn’t like being a good citizen.” Katie says. Keith elbows her.

Romelle chuckles. “Well, if you did come through the front door I won’t be missing every single time you drop by to visit. I didn’t even have time to say hi to you last time! With the men from Alpha Air coming over and all. This house has been getting quite busy.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “Alpha Air? That’s who they were?”

“Yes! They’re very polite men. Very professional. They’ve been visiting quite some time. Usually it’s the CEO and his son. Sometimes a third man comes with them." 

Alpha Air. The biggest airline business in the country. Keith hasn’t touched a plane in his life, but he’s still heard of the name. _Those people were the heads of Alpha Air?_ The magnitude of the business and their position in the company far exceeded Keith’s understanding. He just knew that they were probably a big deal.

“What do they want from us?” Keith asks.

Romelle shrugs, “They didn’t give us details, but recently they’re starting a non-profit portion of the company dedicated to help foster homes, starting with us! They’re also choosing a couple of kids at this home to send to a private school downtown. They provide transportation and everything! It’s quite a fantastic stroke of luck, really.” She tucks a piece of stray hair behind Katie’s ear fondly. “Katie here can finally have the education resources she deserves. I can barely get enough books for her.”

Katie blushes, and Keith lets out a large breath of relief.

So, _relocate_ just meant relocating schools. That’s more… manageable. It gives leeway for Keith to hate Lance less, but he tries not to think about it.

Before he can open his mouth to ask more questions, the doorbell rings.

“Ah! Speak of the devil. Katie, make sure you take some breaks between reading okay? And Keith, it was nice seeing you again dear. Next time let me know you’re here, yes?”

Before Keith and Katie have the chance to nod, she’s bounding to the door.

Keith holds his breath.

It’s not like he was thinking about Model-Man (now supposedly Lance) for the past couple of days. After he had that gigantic outburst and shoved Lance against the concrete wall, it was only when he was walking back did everything hit him. Lance’s eyes were very, very blue. His lips looked _very_ kissable. His eyebrows were so perfectly trimmed, and skin was smooth as hell—no blemishes or anything. He _pushed_ this guy to the wall. He _breathed in_ his air. Their torsos were touching. Mouths inches apart. As he stalks angrily back to Katie’s spot, his face begins to burn. 

_What the fuck did I do?! Why the fuck did I do that?_

Bathing in post embarrassment, Keith had yanked his stuff from Katie’s side and bolted out the back, before Katie can even ask what was wrong. His brain was running fast, faster than his legs, which were sprinting to his parked bike. Now he’s thinking about Todd, Todd pushing _him_ onto hard concrete, his hand in Keith’s pants. Mouth attached to his neck. Keith was ashamed that he enjoyed it. That this straight man was using him as uncharted territory to explore. But it was human touch, skin against skin, and because of that, Keith drank it all up. A man like Todd was the most that Keith would give himself. Because anything more would be too real.

But dear god, does he want something real. A touch to the cheek. Interlaced fingers. Something like love. Like care. Something he’s terribly unfamiliar with. 

Again, when Keith sees Lance entering the house with his father this time, his hair swept back and teeth pearly white, he feels a ghost of the same reaction from last time. His heart staccatos a little and his fingers tingle.

 _And you’re looking for something real in_ him _? Keith, get a grip._ He tells himself.

Romelle gestures for Lance and his father to sit at the table across the room. As they walk over, Lance looks around. After finally spotting Keith in the corner with Katie, he grins wide, eyes lighting up, and gives Keith the cheekiest wink he’s ever seen.

Keith flushes red. That fucker.

As Romelle and his father talk, Lance walks over to the other side of the table, facing Keith and Katie, smug as ever. He keeps eye contact with Keith as he unbuttons his suit and sits, pulling the chair in with a swift tug.

Okay, that was hot.

Lance probably knows. He’s smirking now. Keith scowls and looks away.

“Stop having eye sex with Lance.”

Keith turns redder as he gapes at her. “Katie, you’re like twelve! How the hell do you even know what eye sex is?!”

Katie shrugs, pushing up her glasses and flipping another page.

Keith looks back up. Lance’s piercing blue gaze is still staring straight at him, looking smug as ever.

He winks at Keith again... but this time, he also licks his lips and gives him a kiss.

Okay, that’s it. He’s done. Nada. No more. He needs to _leave_. Keith’s face feels like it’s on fire. He clenches his jaw as he gets his backpack and stands up.

“Okay, I’m out. That’s it. Bye Katie, I’ll see you… soon.” He says quickly, before booking it out through the back. He could’ve sworn he heard Katie snicker.

As Keith walks out onto the street he tells himself that this is the _last_ time he will see Lance. He’ll go during the morning. Or maybe visit Katie at night, like he used to. He’ll add another shift at Shiro’s to cover the evening. Something. Now he knows that Katie isn’t getting relocated, so there’s no need to go back when Lance and his dad are there, right? _Right?_

Wrong. Keith finds himself back too soon, again. And this time, as crystal blue eyes meet his, he books it, _again_. It’s getting all too embarrassing. Keith realizes he probably needs to face his denial, some way or another.

So, he wants to see Lance. But Lance keeps on pulling these dumb flirty jokes as if he’s _mocking_ him, like he knows it will get Keith riled up. _Why the hell does he keep on doing that? Why the hell am I bothered so much by it?_

It feels like Lance is getting the upper hand, making Keith riled up like that. And Keith hates losing.

By the third time he goes, he has a game plan. If Lance winks, give him the finger. If he winks and does that stupid _kissy_ thing again, he’ll draw a line on his throat and mouth “you’re dead”.

But by the third time, Lance comes to Anne Duncan by himself.

 

***

 

It’s a boring Thursday. Lance is sitting in his office, feet propped up on the table, as he swipes idly on his phone.

He’s on Tinder. One of the girls he is currently messaging asks him if he’s actually the _real_ Lance McClain, son of Henry McClain. Lance is about to answer with a suave “I can be whatever you want, baby” before he realizes he can just send a super sexy selfie of himself in his office. He’s sporting the perfect smirk as he looks into the camera, holding the phone up high, when someone barges in.

It’s his dad’s secretary. Lance sputters and his phone slips from his fingers. He quickly takes his feet off of the table. 

“Sasha! Please, knock before you come in! Geez.” He says, rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry Mr. McClain.” She says, not sounding sorry at all. “How is that report going?”

“Uh, it’s… going.” Lance warily eyes the documents scattered on his desk.

Sasha sighs. “Your father wants to see you. Right now. He just got out of a big meeting though, so be wary of him." 

Lance grits his teeth. Post meeting dad, especially if it was a rough meeting, means his tolerance for bullshit is literally at zero. Lance is screwed. 

 

\--

 

Lance walks in to see his father yelling at someone over the phone. His father’s office is huge, with a fantastic view of the city skyline.

“Yes I _know_ Hector was concerned about its consequences but do we _really_ have a choice right now?! You better fucking cover that up as soon as I get out of this building tonight. If the press catches whiff of anything more suspicious than the fucking tuna sandwich I had this morning then I’m going straight to you for answers. Got that?!”

Lance rolls his eyes. Another cover-up. Probably another scandal from Galra Tech, no less. Lance wonders, like he does every day, why his father chooses to partner with such scum. But then again, is there any business out there that _isn’t_ scum?

On the other end of the phone, there seems to be a long rambling reply, but Mr. McClain catches sight of his son standing at the door. “Listen, I don’t care if it takes hours. Just get the job done.” And with that, he slams the phone back on the receiver.

Mr. McClain takes a deep breath as he massages his temples. “Lance.” He acknowledges.

“Heyyyyy dad, quite a phone call huh.” Lance says, as nonchalantly as he can. He slowly inches closer to his dad’s desk.

“It’s just Galra Tech, again. As long as we make clear we weren’t affiliated with the affair it should be fine.” He rubs his face, and then looks tiredly at Lance. “You finished your report?”

“Uh, yes!” Lance bluffs. His voice rises an octave. 

“Good. With the Incident of Flight 781 you know how bad our image is right now. So I’m going to have you do a financial analysis on the marketing department. Make a profit and loss statement with a twenty year trajectory for if we divert another 10, 15, and then 20 percent of our resources to marketing. Ask Mr. Jackson if you need help with something. Now go.” 

“You’re not… you’re not gonna check the report?” Lance squeaks.

“I don’t have time right now, I’ll have Sasha look over it for me.” Lance’s father looks very tired. He massages his temples again. “God damn’ it, after Flight 781 I have more work to do than ever. And then those stupid trips to Anne Duncan’s. But if the press follows up with no progress on our nonprofit org there will literally be _nothing_ else to hide our asses. Why did I put myself in such a—”

“I can do it!” Lance blurts. “I can go to Anne Duncan’s by myself!”

His father looks up, giving him a quizzical look.

Lance backtracks. “I mean, you know, I can manage everything! Talk to Romelle and reach out to the schools and stuff. I’ll—I’ll make reports on the process and send them to you bi-weekly!” Lance snaps his mouth shut, worried he offered a little _too_ much. But it was too late to take it back.

His father, however, seemed to like the magnanimous offer. He strokes his chin. “Bi-weekly reports. And the nonprofit side of Alpha Air does entail everything from marketing to financials and business.” He nods. “It would be great practice for you to manage this portion of our company. It’s essentially a startup version of the company we have now.”

His father gives him a look of positive affirmation. “And that would take so much off my shoulders. Thank you, Lance. You’re really lookin’ out for your old man, aren’t you.” His eyes gleam warmly. It’s a look of pride. 

Lance gulps. “Yep, that’s me. Uh, looking out for people. You know, like nonprofits do… aha.” He pauses. “Ok—I’m gonna, ah, do that financial analysis you were talking about. It was great talking to you dad glad Icanhelpalittlebye!!!!” And then turns around and leaves.

When he walks out the office and rounds the corner, his hand immediately slaps on to his forehead.

_What the shit did I just sign up for?_

 

\--

 

So, the third time Lance comes to Anne Duncan, he is alone. It’s just him. No macho dad. Keith doesn’t know how to react to that.

He’s taking Romelle’s hand and giving her a confident smile, like he always does. He exchanges some words with her, and Romelle nods quickly with understanding. Lance is carrying an odd bag of sorts. He shows Romelle the bag and continues talking.

“What’s in that bag,” Keith wonders.

“I have no idea,” Katie says next to him. “He’s never came alone before. This is new. And interesting.”

Romelle puts her hand to her heart before giving Lance a big hug. Lance laughs and hugs politely back. She then gestures to Lance to continue and he nods. Then Romelle leaves.

Lance then walks over to a child sitting at the table. And then, amazingly, he strikes up a conversation with him. In minutes, the child is laughing and gesticulating wildly, as Lance listens with a kind smile. Out of the bag he takes out a small toy car and offers it to the child. He then hugs the child and ruffles his hair before waving goodbye. And then he moves on to the next kid.

Keith’s jaw drops. He runs through various different emotions as he watches Lance move on from one kid to the next, even managing to make the shyest children grin. Lance is caring and gentle with all of them, and the smile never leaves his face.

“Well that’s a side of him I’ve never seen.” Katie observes. “Look, he even got Little Lulu to talk. That takes mad skill.”

“Why is he… why is he doing that.” Keith’s throat is dry.

Katie snickers as she side-eyes Keith. “What, you thought hot boy couldn’t get any hotter?”

Keith glares at her. He opens his mouth to say something scathing but notices Lance walking over to them.

Keith watches, heart beating embarrassingly loudly, as Lance takes a seat on the floor, bag in his lap. It was so odd to see, this boy in an expensive suit and shiny ass shoes just sitting cross legged on the carpet. Lance runs his hand through his hair and smiles at them.

“Katie,” He nods to her. And then his eyes travel to Keith with a blank look on his face, as if the confrontation behind the house never happened.

“I’m Keith.” He says, voice scratchy. And then adds, “I don’t—I don’t live here though.” 

Lance raises an eyebrow. 

“He likes to visit me sometimes.” Katie answers for him, bless her heart. “He’s actually 21, aged out a loooong time ago.”

Lance smirks. “That’s nice, I’m 22.”

“Cool,” Keith says, a little too quickly.

And then Lance’s gaze changes. His eyes narrow at Keith. “Seems like you don’t have anything better to do if you’re chilling at a foster home at age 21, huh?” Lance says, sneering. Keith knows he’s referring to last time. _Seems like you don’t have anything better to do if you’re threatening dudes at an orphanage, huh?_ Keith feels his hackles rise.

“How the hell am I supposed to stay alive if I just _chill_.” Keith snaps, defensively. “I work my ass off during the day. Something you probably don’t understand.” 

Lance blinks. He gives him a look and shakes his head. “Jesus man, I’m just teasing. Relax.” He says, in the most entitled voice ever. Then he digs into his bag. “Anyways, Katie, I thought you would like this one. Hopefully you haven’t read it already.” Lance pulls out a thick book. It’s decorated beautifully, with golden on the edges.

Katie takes the book with two hands, eyes huge. “The Hobbit? Awesome, I just finished Lord of the Rings a couple weeks ago!” She stares at Lance in wonder. “You’re like Santa Claus.” 

Keith bristles a little. Ok, so maybe a snickers bar isn’t as amazing as a gold embroidered book, but Keith is _trying_. Something about Katie’s giddiness from Lance’s philanthropy rubs him the wrong way.

“If Santa Claus was just a kid with more money than he would ever need, then maybe.” Keith says, eyes narrowing at Lance.

“Keith!” Katie gasps.

Lance laughs. “Ooooh, this guy doesn’t like me.” He says, mockingly, getting up and dusting his pants. “I guess that’s my cue to go. Bye, Katie, I’m glad you like the book. Nice meeting you… Keith.” 

And with that, he moves on to the next child, and doesn’t talk to Keith the rest of his time there. 

Keith has fucked up. He sighs, rubbing his face. “Damn’ it. Why does a body that hot have such an obnoxious mouth attached to it?”

Katie laughs. “But Keith, your mouth is _just_ as obnoxious.”

She's got a point, doesn't she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith is socially awkward. I relate to Keith. 
> 
> Comments are very very very appreciated!!!! <3


	4. To Cave In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo it's been like two months--BUT IM BACK! This was completed a while back idk why I didn't post it ;-; Anyways, Lance and Keith have a cute moment :3c

Keith doesn’t know when he finally found himself admitting that he likes Lance. All he does know was something slowly changed as he made the countless trips to Anne Duncan. Maybe it was watching Lance warm up to the kids. Maybe it was when a couple of the younger ones piled onto Lance in order to keep him from getting up, and Lance was laughing like it was the funniest thing.

Sometimes Lance comes in his usual dapper attire. The colors of his suit and ties change, always immaculately styled. A light grey suit with a dark red tie. A classic black suit and white button down. He sometimes even wore a pocket square. And then other days, the days that gets Keith the most flustered, is when he comes in casual attire. Tan pants that fit comfortably around his legs. Sneakers and a loose-fitting V-neck. His hair is all floppy and sticking in all different directions. He’s laughing. Children are sitting on his lap. He’s splayed all over the carpet. He’s gotten acquainted with all of the children and calls them by their first name. “Benji, come on over here, you’re gonna miss the good part! Star Wars waits for nobody!” 

He looks so at home.

It makes Keith’s heart hurt just looking at him. He doesn’t know what part makes it painful. Is he jealous because he got along so easily with the children? Is it because he can make these twenty something children part of his family in a matter of weeks, when Keith has been visiting for nearly six years and still doesn’t remember their names? Is it because the children look at him with wide, glimmering eyes and large smiles?

Whenever Keith tries exploring that tightness in his chest, he ends up giving up. After all, what does he know about love and affection. 

Keith sneaks glances at him whenever he can—usually when Lance is very occupied with the children (which is pretty often). When Lance’s face is clearly visible from Keith’s line of view, he makes a point of looking away, facing Katie as they chat or looking down in his notebook. Sometimes he thinks he can feel Lance’s eyes on him, but that’s probably just wishful thinking. His face still warms up nonetheless.

Keith hasn’t talked to Lance ever since the conversation they had when he gave Katie _The Hobbit._ Well, Lance hasn’t _approached_ Keith since then, because sure as hell Keith wouldn’t be the first one to start another conversation rolling.

And so, the next conversation they have is kind of thrust upon them, since Lance catches Keith red handed in the kitchen one day.

Keith is sitting on the countertop, elbow deep in a gigantic plastic jar full of animal crackers. When Lance enters the kitchen, Keith looks up quickly like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, shit.” Keith says, because he’s dumb. He tries desperately to catch the crumbs falling from his mouth, face reddening.

Lance looks a mixture of surprised and amused as he says, “Didn’t expect to see _you_ here.” Today Lance is wearing a casual striped T-shirt and gray pants. He looks more approachable. More boyish. It makes Keith a little flustered—which isn’t good.

Keith turns his attention to his lap, reaching into the jar again. “The animal crackers here are good. They’re like, my childhood.” He mumbles. Lance chuckles in response. 

As he munches on the cracker, Keith watches Lance set down a large bag on the counter. His eyes narrow. “What are _you_ doing here?” Keith asks.

“I brought cookie dough,” Lance chirps happily. He seems to be in a good mood today, for whatever reason. There’s a bounce in his step as he brings out the baking pans and cookie dough. “Also, milk. Lots and lots of milk. You can’t eat cookies without milk.”

Keith snorts. “Uh, yeah you can.”

“Uh, no you can’t.” Lance says, almost too seriously. “Cookies without milk is an abomination. You might as well eat dry bread.” Now he’s bringing out thousands of different cookie cutters and arranging them meticulously on the table.

Keith rolls his eyes as he munches on a cracker. Of course, rich boy would have the luxury of always having milk with his cookies. “Whatever. Why didn’t you just bring already baked cookies. You still have to bake those.”

Lance stops, frowning. He turns to Keith and puts his hands on his hips. “Of course I have to bake these! You clearly don’t know how to have fun. Eating it is only part of it, there’s also shaping and decorating and baking!”

Keith has never shaped or decorated cookies and could only imagine how “fun” it would be. He scowls. “I know how to have fun.”

“Oh, really,” Lance says, skeptical.

“Yes, really.” Keith frowns harder. 

Lance narrows his eyes at Keith, and then his lips curl into a smirk. He slowly makes his way over to him as he says, suddenly very flirtatiously: “Then tell me _Keith_ , how do you have fun?”

Keith tenses, eyes widening as Lance keeps his gaze fixed on him, walking over like a cat slowly stalking their prey. Keith can’t really think of a reply. He’s too busy trying to process whatever the fuck is happening right now.

Lance leans over, putting his hands on the counter either side of Keith, trapping him. Keith grips the plastic jar a little tighter. Lance’s face is way too close. His blue eyes are kind of entrancing. His shoulders are broad.

“I, uh… what—what did you say?” Keith manages to stammer out.

“I said,” Lance leans in a bit more. “how do _you_ have fun?”

Keith’s mind processes his words like an old monitor, clunky and sluggish. He frowns, trying really hard to think. “I steal things sometimes?”

Lance quirks up an eyebrow, seemingly genuinely confused. And then he bursts out laughing. He drops his hands from the counter and backs away, snickering. 

Keith doesn’t know what just happened, but Lance’s laughter insults him nonetheless. “What!?” He snaps weakly. 

“Nothing, nothing.” Lance says, shaking his head and leaning against the counter across from Keith. He crosses his arms as he looks at Keith, eyes glimmering with mirth. “What happened to that angry guy that shoved me against the wall that day?”

Keith blushes as he remembers. He looks down into the jar of crackers. “Dunno. Lost his steam or something.”

Lance continues to look at Keith curiously, arms crossed, a light smile dancing on his face. Keith self-consciously munches on another cracker.

“You’re 21 right?” Lance says casually. “Do you go to school or something?”

“Uh, no I don’t. I just work.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I, uh. I fix cars.” Keith realizes faintly that Lance is trying to actually have a real conversation with him.

“That’s cool. Where at?”

“Shiro’s Auto Repair shop. It’s just a small place downtown.”

“Cool, cool.”

A long pause. 

Keith clears his throat. “So… do you go to school or something?”

Lance smiles a bit more in response to Keith’s question. He straightens a little. “Yeah, only at night though, because during the day my dad makes me do work and such. I go to Perimeter Center College. Every Tuesday and Thursday night.”

Keith frowns. “Why the hell are you going to community college? Can’t your dad pay your way into Harvard or some shit?”

Lance shrugs. “Yeah, sure, I can go to whatever school I want. But I want to be close to my family, so here I am.” He snorts. “My dad sure wasn’t happy about it though. I threw such a fit. Said I would run away and everything. He only let me stay with the condition I work with him at Alpha Air.”

There was so much new information packed into that one explanation that Keith couldn’t find himself continuing the conversation. It was odd to know that much about Lance. That he was more than just a cardboard cutout of some rich handsome guy. That he was an actual living breathing person with problems, needs and wants.

Lance waves his hand, standing up and heading towards the kitchen table. “No need to hear my personal drama though. Anyways, I gotta get the cookie party started before the dough thaws out completely. Want to help me arrange the decorations? Or call the kids?”

“Uh, I’m good.” Keith hastily screws the lid back onto the plastic jar. He hops off the counter and grabs his backpack. “I’m actually going to be heading off now, work and all.”

Lance smirks. “I figured. Alright, miss out on the fun then. I’ll see you around, _Keith_.”

Keith gives him a little wave before booking it out through the back. He frowns as he gets on his bike and speeds to Shiro’s. Why does he always have to say Keith’s name like that? It’s like he’s making fun of him. Like when the bullies would pick on him, back when he was a scrawny little kid. _What,_ Keith _, you scared? Can’t open your mouth to talk?_ Keith had consequently given them a fist to the cheek. He was better at talking with his fists, after all.

But the way Lance said it was a little bit different. Like his name holds all sorts of excitement. Like he’s taunting Keith to step up to the plate. To make the next move. To cave in.

 

\--

 

It actually hit him that evening, as he is elbow deep in car grease. Shiro was trying desperately to organize the parts and tools scattered around the garage, which have quite literally began piling up around them.

“So, Keith,” Shiro says conversationally, “how have things been going? You’ve been out more often lately.”

For some reason Keith doesn’t want to admit that he’s just been going to Anne Duncan’s more. “Just been… around. Rolo and the gang have been more active lately.”

Shiro shakes his head. “You really have to stop hanging out with those guys, Keith.”

Keith shrugs. Whenever Shiro tries being the big brother it rubs Keith the wrong way. It’s Keith’s life, he can waste it however he wants. He wasn’t even hanging out with Rolo anyways. 

Keith decides to change the subject. “What about you, Shiro? How have things been going with you?” 

Metal clacks against metal as Shiro piles tools into a large box. “It’s been… going. Just finished remodeling the apartment. I replaced the floors with tile, fixed the porch. That’s about it.” 

Shiro’s life was just about as glamorous as Keith’s. A single man in his thirties, he lives as if he’s already retired. His time in the army gave him a bunch of financial security, practically covering all living expenses for his whole life, however the mental and physical toll is what costed him. His therapist recommended him to keep busy, and so he started this low-key auto repair shop by himself just for some extra cash and something to do. Keith honestly doesn’t know what Shiro does when he goes back to his apartment. Watch the news? Read?

It’s quite depressing, when Keith thinks about it. Both Keith and Shiro have lost meaning when it comes to living. While Keith is the street rat, Shiro is the ghost of a man who once was thriving. He often wonders what Shiro was like in his twenties, passionate, eyes shining with conviction.

Maybe that’s why both of them pour so much effort into taking care of another person. Shiro to Keith, and Keith to Katie. It’s like a lifeline. A gesture that proves to themselves that their lives aren’t entirely meaningless.

In many ways, they are quite similar.

“Keith,” Shiro says, “have you thought about going back to school?” 

“Yeah, I have.” Keith says, annoyed. “And you’ve suggested it way too many times.”

“You really have to start thinking about it, though. You can’t be fixing cars forever.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing though,” Keith mutters under his breath. He sighs. “Shiro, I’ve told you before, school just isn’t for me. I get into way too much trouble. And plus, it’s way too pricey.”

Shiro pauses to look at Keith. “But have you really tried? College is different than high school, Keith. And plus, schools like Perimeter Center give out generous financial aid. I’d be surprised if they would make you pay a penny, especially since you don’t have parents to support you.” 

Keith had stopped listening after hearing “Perimeter Center”. Lance’s words ring in his ear. _I go to Perimeter Center College. Every Tuesday and Thursday night._ Keith pauses. He chews on his lip.

“It would be… completely free?” Keith asks cautiously.

Shiro smiles a little, seeing that Keith is warming up to the idea. “Most likely, and if not, you know I would have enough to help you. And you can continue working here." 

“Maybe… maybe I can consider.” Keith says, tapping his fingers on the side of the car.

“Keith,” Shiro says, softly. Keith looks up to see a relieved expression on Shiro’s face. “That’s great! You have so much potential, Keith. You’re young, and you can do so much. I know of it. I can help you through the application process if need be.”

“Okay,” Keith says distantly. “Thanks, Shiro." 

Shiro starts to talk about potential majors to pick up, but Keith is already reeling on what he just agreed on. Did… did Lance McClain single handedly persuade Keith to go to school? Okay, at least, _consider_ going to school? Something he’s adamant on avoiding for years? That’s… that’s insane. That’s like what someone would do if they’ve…

Got a big fat crush.

Oh, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OooOOOOOOooO someone's got a big fat crush!!
> 
> Hehe so chapter 5 is pretty juicy + sexy imo I'm just trying to figure out how to end it, but yeah I'll be finishing it soon!


End file.
